Echoes
by whatdotheydream
Summary: Voices whisper in the dark. They tell us stories. They watch us. And they tell us stories. But, story, that means lie, right? Because these aren't lies. They tell us so we won't forget. They tell us…because they don't forget. T, only because of angst. Only that. Maybe later blood, or darkness. I suppose it depends on my mood.
1. Sea Bright

_"Once Upon A Time…" _They said.

_"Once upon a time… There was a cottage shaped from porcelain. It had a red, flowery vined tea-cup pattern, and it sat on the edge of a cliff leaning over the sea. There was a little girl, too. She lived there. She played in the waves, and her name, her name it was… it was…Muriel…And that meant…it meant…'Sea-Bright,' because she was the light of the darkest waters…She was the moon's light on the sea. Pale and silver, and her laughter was…silver too…. And she was…The…she was…hope… But….Even the moon needs light…And without it…without it…it… She… Her name…it became…Melantha, because it meant…'dark flower'….And she became…a shadow… And it…it…it…Once upon a time…Once upon a time…There was a little girl, who became… Once upon a time, there was a…There was…Once upon a time._

**Voices whisper in the dark. They tell us stories. They watch us. And they tell us stories. But, story, that means lie, right? Because these aren't lies. They tell us so we won't forget. They tell us…because they don't forget.**


	2. The Fish Beast

A/N: So, I totally forgot this first time around. I'm trying out a new style, and they're mostly drabbles and such. In this one, I want you to know, "men" and "man" do not refer to "male, boy" but simply "human". That's all, really.

_"Once upon a time…There was a fish. It lived…it lived…in a fast, dark river…Deep, deep underground…It's scales were made of gold…And its eyes were flat and white and dead…because it was blind and could not see. But…But…The fish was the guardian of a most precious treasure…For in its belly…it held…a star. And the star…was greatly cherished by many…And many men…tried to…they tried to…find it, and…take it…And…But…Even those who roamed the dark labyrinths…Could not find the fish…Because those who tried…were found…twisted. They washed up from the ground. They were gone. But men…Are foolish. And greedy. And they wanted…the star. So many, many more came. To fight the fish. To take the star. And…And…Nothing. Endless. But a Beast's patience, unlike mans greed, is not endless. And the fish was a Beast. So the fish…rose up from the dark waters…And they were in awe…but the Fish-Beast was not. And it devoured many…many…agony…terror…And man felt that of a hunted boar. And they prayed, and begged…But…The men's wooden idols had deaf ears…And…an island was took…Deep, deep under…It would have continued forever, but…A small child, a girl…Came and, she gazed upon the Fish-Beast…And said 'Guardian, we have done great harm.' And she began to sing, and her voice, beautiful, and…silver…soothed the great Beast…And it sunk back…into the dark. And for hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of years…There was a story…of a giant, hideous Fish-Beast with eyes of fire, that turned these who looked upon them to stone…One who opened its cavernous mouth…And sent…A great flood…of dark water…upon the innocent men…and sunk an island…And would have continued…If not for the child…Who gave unto the heartless Fish-Beast…Compassion…But…it was just a story…At least, most of it…And soon, they forgot…Because…fear forgets."_

**Tales of heroes, and monsters, and, sometimes, monsters that were heroes. They kept us awake at night, watching, waiting, for another tale. And we knew we would be satisfied. The voices in the dark always knew…when we wanted to remember.**


	3. Aillill

A/N: this one is happy…..I think. Hah. Oh, and, they're all connected, in one way or other. It has a planned out end (not middle, end) and there will only be about ten or so.

_"Once upon a time…There was a boy…who lived on an island…all alone…at least, there were no other humans…However…the boy, being raised and named by the birds and seals, could speak __Saedthar__, and that was____how they spoke, and so, indeed he was not…alone…And they had named him Aillill, because that had been a powerful king in the past. And so, Aillill grew, and they told him tales of faraway lands, and men of great power and promise, and quests and swords and courage and honor, and they filled his head with heroes, and his heart with compassion…And were not surprised when, after he had grown into a fine young man, he expressed____his wish to travel, and be great…because, this is what they had made him into…And, though it took many years…and he was past his prime…he built a boat…and sailed away…and had many strange and curious events happen to him…Because, they had made him a hero, and heroes always have odd adventures…Still, he became old…older…and he wasn't a hero anymore, because…his joints creaked…and it was too cold…and too wild…So, he looked for a home…and he found, a small village, with kind people…who did not mind a wild old man, who spoke a bizarre language…and he built a cottage…And the people…taught him of their ways…and of their language…and he lived a happy life…and so did people that knew him…especially…the little girl…but…that…would be cheating, because…that one isn't ready yet…and neither are you…"_

**Sometimes the stories were happy. Sometimes, they just prepared the way-getting closer to the end. But, mostly, they ended in fear, and remorse, and anger, because, humans have a way of forgetting the horrible parts.**


	4. The Song of Aryth

_ "Once upon a time…there was… an orphan. She was brought, they said, by wild seals, and left on the edge of the sea. They found her in the morning… And left her there, saying that what the sea had, it kept. But the sea did not want her, and it, too, left her on the sands… But…The forest wanted her. And it took her. She was raised by the trees…she spoke whispery soft, like leaves, and was tall and brown. But, humans will miss humans, no matter how tree-like they are, and so did she. She peeked upon the village, and watched them. She learned their habits. She felt their pains and joys. And for a while, that was enough. For a while…_

_ She was a young woman when the old man came. She watched him. He was different. He was wild. And he spoke a language, sharp and harsh, smooth and continuous like the sea. Watching wasn't enough. She crept into the village, tall, brown, and bare. He said nothing, but gave her a rough blanket, and said, 'The Sea's been waiting.' _

_ He taught her much for three years. Old tales, stories. He filled her head with heroes and her heart with Compassion and Courage. And then…He gave her a boat, and a sword, and a song, and said…'Aryth, fortune be with you.' And she sailed, far, faraway…And came upon a land…dark…and desolate …And she found the people…old and frail…and she listened to their tale, and it was not a cheery tale._

_ Agrin. That was its name. Its scales were ebony, but its teeth were red. Red because…of blood. Blood because…it ate human flesh…And the blood stained its teeth, and…its heart. They said that once, it was human. But its_ _malice malformed it, and it became…A monster. And so…it waited. It bided its time. Deep, deep in the earth, in the labyrinths, it waited. And when it was hungry…it ate._

_ She took her sword, and she took her song, and they led her to the chasm, and she looked into the void, and she saw death waiting. But she had Compassion and Courage, and the people needed her. So she persisted in her journey…And…the dark…was overwhelming…but…humans are foolish…and they are brave._

_ She wandered the corridors of what seemed to be a sunken land, and she waited. Because the Agrin would find her. It would smell her blood, and it would hunger for it. And she would be waiting._

_ It came. It wailed, a high-pitched sound, and it lunged. Its eyes were filled with hate and greed and want…and it came._

_ She forgot her song. Fear forgets quiet things, and latches on to flashy and redundant things, and so she remembered her sword, but forgot her song._

_ The battle was hard and weary. There was much blood. She was weakening. And it is at the end, when our mind begins to recede, that fear lets go. And she remembered her song._

_ Her voice was like starlight. It was cold water. It was silver._

_The shadows withdrew and the blood ebbed away from the monster's heart, and it became a young woman, with pain engraved deep into her soul. And Aryth knew. Agony is the strongest hate."_

**They know what to tell us. What we can stand. But they don't always listen. The voices are not always kind.**


	5. The Star

_ "Once upon a time, there was a maiden, and she was very ill. They said she was rotting from the inside, and that she would die within years._

_She knew, but she was brave, and only smiled at the whispering voices, and was only kinder to these who mocked her._

_ She had one friend, and his name was Ab. He did not stare. He did not point. And he left sweet bread for her. _

_ She had many gifts from him. When he was younger, they consisted of white feathers and shiny stones. Now, when she woke up, there would be a book of tales at the foot of her bed._

_They were filled with beautiful words._

_ She longed to be a hero, like these in the books. But she never could be, and she was well aware of that._

_She contented herself with being meek and mild, and talking to Ab. When he let himself be seen._

_ The people began to love her. How could they not? She was kind. She was beautiful. She was funny, and the sun shone brighter when she smiled._

_But one day, the sun went away. She stopped smiling. Her time was close. She knew that._

_ But she wouldn't cry._

_ And it wouldn't rain._

_A time being close could mean years. And it did. She married Ab. They had a child. Her name was Rosewyn. But the sun didn't shine. The rain didn't come. She didn't smile, and they waited for her to die._

_ She was dying. They let the doctors go. Ab was the only one to care for her. He fed her, and told her stories. 'Once upon a time. Once upon a time, there was a girl. She was brave and kind, she had many accomplishments. She conquered the great behemoth Agrin with her silver voice. She killed the Tyrant -King Ezar, and freed his people. Her name. It was Aryth. And there were tales. Tales of a girl, with a silver voice, one before Aryth. People said, maybe Aryth existed before she was Aryth. They called her the Guardian. After all, Aryth means hope._

_But heroes are not immortal. She died. Even the Heavens mourned her parting._

_ She was brave, and kind. Even the ruthless sky adored her. It made her a star; the greatest honor given a warrior. It is said that she grants wishes to only the bravest of man.' Ab leans forward. He kisses her forehead-a rare show of such affection. Her eyes are glazed a she stares at the sky._

_She wants to be a star._

_ Rosewyn is seven. Too young, they say. Too young to lose her mother. Too young to lose her mother, and understand she has lost her. But, that part is wrong. She knows. Her father told her. He sounds angry. His face is twisted, and his eyes are red. He makes strange choking sounds. _

_He looks at her mother. His wife. He adored her. And now he looks at her. Dead. And he hates himself._

_ He kneels down, and kisses her mother's forehead. A rare show of affection. It's too late now._

_He speaks now, and she knows, because of his voice, that he still loves her mother. Very much._

_ 'You can be a star now.' So, she thinks. My mother is a star. And that is that. The funeral is long and dreary. The pope does not know her mother. The funeral is long and dreary, and it is dark when they walk home. She looks up, and sees a star._

_It looks like her mother."_

** Stories do not end. Life doesn't. Not really. The voices know that, and they never end.**

A/N: So…I think I used the term "man," yes? It is the same as in "The Fish-Beast." Oh, and I had a sort of line pattern, but I don't think it will last the upload. Ah well.


	6. The Enchantress's Field of Roses

_ "Once upon a…time, once upon a time…There was a rose. It was the sweetest scented rose in the world, but…Every rose had its thorns, and…this one certainly did._

_ It was the sweetest flower you ever did smell, but no one ever smelled it. They stayed as far away as possible, because…because…whoever smelt the rose became a rose themselves, and soon there was a field of roses…For, though most knew to stay well away, there was always a stray one…_

_ A young child, run from the scolding Nanny's arms…A worn traveler, lost in a strange land…A young man, picking flowers for his beloved…A girl, wandered from her friends…A mother, chasing after the birds that made off with her lunch…Many, many, many that wandered from their daily path, enchanted by the mesmerizing sway of the roses, and a tune only they could hear._

_ But, as any child would tell you, nothing is ever magic without reason, especially not flowers… And this was no different. For, just over the hill, lived an enchantress. The Enchantress lived in a bewitched castle in the middle of a field of bewitched flowers, and she was alone. Very alone. But people tend to be alarmed by magical beings, and alarmed humans do not make good companions._

_ However, enchanted ones __**do**__. And the enchanted roses were marvelous company, with marvelous tales to tell…'Once upon a time, there was a china doll. She had painted cheeks, and painted lips, and fine, black, painted hair. Her eyes though, were glass, and they were very, very blue. But she had no friend, and she was very sad. She was alone. And she waited, for a friend. No one came.' 'Once upon a time, there was a girl with a silver voice. Everybody obeyed her commands, so bewitched were they. They were captives, but they didn't mind. They adored her. And bewitched people never __**do**__ mind.' 'Once upon a time, there was an enchantress. She lived with her nephew in a castle isolated from all humans. However, her life was not a lonely one, for she loved her nephew dearly, and gave him all he needed, all he wanted, all he asked. And in her love, she was blind, and in her love, he became a beast. But she remained blind. It was always best to remain blind.'_

_ Still…flowers are not humans…Even if they were once…and their tales are marvelous…And they do not laugh with you when you cry._

_ Humans, you know, while foolish, and greedy…are kind. And some are wise. This boy was wise. Because…although, although…he could not read, he knew…he knew…that if you could not smell, you could not smell, and that the roses' aroma was rather like a siren's song. If you could not hear it…it could not harm you. I f you could not smell the roses…_

_ He borrowed his father's candle wax. Well, really, he took it, but…His father had plenty of candle wax. And he was bored._

_ It was uncomfortable, really, only breathing through his mouth. Sometimes, he'd forget, and take in a deep breath through his nose…And for a while, he would choke on nothingness, before he remembered to open his mouth._

_ The wall was not hard to scale. It was old and unkempt, and vines were allowed to climb up it…And the boy easily found foot-and-hand-holds amongst the crevices and fallen stones._

_ The boy's head popped over the wall, and soon after came his arms and legs and all, and as he sat, and panted, he looked about, and saw…_

_ A beautiful woman. She had dark, ebony hair and snowy white skin. Her red lips moved softly as she whispered to the roses. 'That's the fourth time you've told me that story, you know.' She said sadly, yearningly. The poor little flower nodded apologetically, and seemed to hurry on. 'Once upon a time…once…once upon a-a time…There was an old garden. All the flowers were grand and old and majestic, but…but…They were cold…And there mistress was lonely…and it did not matter, because…they were beautiful. But it __**did**__, really, and she went looking, far and far, far away, and she found, she found, a…she found…a child. And it was her own. Mistress…mistress, do not…do not cry…' for it was a young rose, and it was disposed to to adore its mistress, the one who loved and fed and watered it._

_ And all the roses wept and moaned, and cried out to their mistress, because…because they were bewitched, and they loved her._

_ Nonetheless, there was one…one little one…who was quite a dreamer, and gazed up at the sky, and saw…and saw…the boy. And when one knew the other knew, and it shrieked, and her mistress looked, and she saw…and she was even more beautiful, with tears smudging her cheeks, eyes bloodshot, crying, human, she was more beautiful."_

**No fire can warm a broken heart. No fire, except that of the laughter of a friend.**


End file.
